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GODEFROI AND YOLANDE, 



A MEDI/^VAL PLAY IN ONE ACT. 



LAURENCE IRVING. 



_y ^ ^■ 



NEW YORK. 

1804. 



Copyright, 1894, 
By Laurence Irving. 



THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK. 



CHARACTERS. 

Philippe le Bel, King of France . . 
The Archbishop, his brother . . . 
Sir Sagramour, a young Paladin , . 

GODEFROI 

A Doctor 

A Frantic Hermit 

A Porter 

A King's Officer 



YOLANDE 

Megarde, an old blind woman, mother to 
Godefroi 

LiSETTE, daughter to Megarde, sister to 
Godefroi 

NiMUE, 



Izabeau, 

Clarisin, 

Elaine, 



waiting-women to Yolande . . 



Servants, Guests, Masquers, Monks, Officers, Executioner i 
Men-at-arms, etc. 




GODBPEOI AND YOLANDE. 

Scene. A spacious Jiall in the castle of Yolande. 
The hall presents the appearance of preparation 
for a festivity, festoons, garlands, etc. At hack of 
stage a platform, along ivhich are ranged several 
chairs; behind the platform a large tvindoiv, above 
tvhich tvindoiv runs a gallery, approached by a 
staircase. In the right wall a door, beloiv tvhich 
a fireplace, in front of tvhich fireplace two stools; 
the fire emits a ruddy light. In the left wall 
another door. Torches tvreathed in branches are 
set all round the room, two only of the torches are 
alight. The tvind is moaning, snow is falling 
against the large windotv at bach. 

Kimue. [Upon platform, gazing out of window, a bundle 
of rushes on her arm.] 

'HAT a night! What snow! What a 
wind ! How the tapestries flap and flut- 
ter; the flames of the torches stream 
all one way . The snow — the snow — the 
wind — the snow — the wind ! How say yon, is the 
snow enwrapping the wind, is the wdnd enwrapping- 
the snow ? 




Iza. Come from the window ! 

[A faint far cry, followed hy the sound as 
of a hell. 

Kimue. Hark ! Wliat was that ? 

Iza. [Busying herself about the room.] Nothing ! If 
you see not quickly to the — we are behindhand as it is. 

Mmue. It is some trouble, methinks, clerk Master 
Grodefroi will be having in his set^/ch j he has been 
long gone now. 

Iza. Never mind Godefroi; none but a frantic 
fool would go on such a night on such an errand. 

Nimue. Poor fellow ! He first might trudge to 
Paris ere he'd find a doctor hereabouts ! 

Iza. Come from the window. 

Nimue. [Same cry cmd sound of ringing repeated as 
before.] Hark ! — There was something ! 

Cla. [Calling from gallery.] Master Clerk is not he 
yet come back ? 

Yol. [Voice heard off.] Clarisin, wench, Clarisin ! 

Cla. [Ansivering Yolande.] My fair lady. [Faint 
far long cry heard for the third time, followed hy sound 
of ringing. Leaning out of gallery, in a loud whisper.] 
Intolerable ! 

Enter Elaine also into gallery. 

Elaine. [To Clarisin.] Go to my lady. 
Cla. Insupportable ! 
Yol. [ Voice.] Here, wench ! here, here ! 
Cla. I come ! [Exit Clarisin. 

Elaine. What was that cry just now? Yolande 
would know. Go thou inquire, Izabeau. 

Iza. There nothing will be ready if my lady 

Elaine. Do as she bids you ; hers the fault ! 
6 



Iza. I go. Then be it so ! I go, I go ! 

[Exit IZABEAU. 

Elaine. Nimue, thou shouldst but hear our beau- 
teous huiy how she doth sit aud rail at Master Gode- 
froi for that,. he eometh uot. 

Ximue. Alas, poor youth! Alas! How strange 
a youth he is, how strauge ! 

Elaine. Ay, passing strange ! 

Nimue. I never yet beheld his countenance. 

Elaine. [In astonishment.] You never yet 

Nimue. That is his face we see, but not his counte- 
nance ; his face smoulders, but his countenance — 
that were a flash, a flame, a flickering thing. 

Elaine. Nimiie, how curious thou art ! Methinks 
thou own'st some lurking fancy for this sad, sombre 
youth. 

Ximue. Ay, so you say ! 

Elaine. And you gainsay us not. 

Nimue. But he is proud 

Elaine. And virtuous 

Nimue. And here! — Would he solicit my best 
favors there is nothing he — he is so curious — 
might not obtain. 

Elaine. Nay, fly thou higher than a scrivener clerk. 
But know you what ? 

Nim ue. What ? 

Elaine. I verily believe he languishes — he — mark 
you, he! — she that has kings and bishops at her 
feet ! — she a what ? a nothing ! — I believe — ! 

Nimue. And so do I. 

Elaine. What? 

Nimue. That he languishes for lo^'e of her, 

Elaine. Hence is his face become so lank and 

7 



gani]t. Who but a foolish, frantic, love-sick 
youth [Cry and hell heard as before. 

Enter into gallery Clarisin. 
Cla. What cry was that ? But where is Izabeau f 
But where is Godef roi ? 

[Cry and hell as before. A l^nocl" heard. 
Here is Godefroi, my lady. [Exit Clarisin. 

Yol. \ Voice.] A doctor with him ? 

Re-enter Izabeau. 
Iza. It is not Godefroi ! 

Elaine. [Leaping np steps leading to gallery.] It is 
not Godefroi ! 

Re-enter Clarisin. 

Cla. It is not Godefroi ! 
Elaine. It is not he ! 

[Exeunt Clarisin and Elaine. Sound of 
Yolande's voice from ivithin. 
Nimue. Who is it, then ? 
Iza. Some old blind woman. 
Nimue. Is it she has been crying so outside ? 
Iza. Why, she is coming hither. 
Kimue. Led by a child. 
Iza. Take thou a torch, inspect her. 
Nimue. Do so thyself ! 

Iza. [ Taking down torch, crossing with it to door r.] 
Of what are ye afraid? [Talxes staitd by door. 

Enter Megarde led by Lisette, snow upon the gar- 
ments of both of them. Megarde carries a basket 
on her arm. 

What want you here f 



Meg. Go to the fire, Lisette, and warm thyself. 
[LiSETTE goes and crouches hg the Jire.] I came to 
see my son, Godefroi. 

Iza. Thj son ? 

Mmue. Is he thy son ? 

Meg. He is my son. 

Ninme. Come, sit you here, then. 

[Draivs Megarde towards the Jire. 

Meg. Is one of you the lady of the house 1 

Mmue. Indeed not we ! 

Meg. I wish to see the lady of the house ; I have 
a present for her. 

Iza. A present ! ^^Hiy, what present I 

Meg. These few cakes. 

Iza. Offer her that? Know you — why, go thy 
ways ! I must be making ready for the masque. 
Nimue, see thou ... to what wants seeing to ! 

[Uxit IZABEAU. 

Nimue. My lady is not weU. 
Meg. She is not well f 

Nimue. Thy son is gone to find a doctor for 
her. 

[LiSETTE has set herself upon her motlm^s 
hnee and is fallen asleep. 
Meg. He has done well then. 
Nimiie. Whj '] 

Meg. Because to him she has been very kind. 
Nimue. Yolande, our lady! — kind to him, youi* 
son ! Who could have told you so ? 

[A loud impatient hiocMng. 
That is your son. 

Cla. Sind Ulaine. [Entering above.] Nimue! 



Khmie. I rim — run! 

[Exeunt Nimue and Clarisin. 
Meg. [AwaVing the child.] Lisette, wake up, Lisette ! 
— Nay, sleep then, sleep. 
Elauie. Who is that there f 
Meg. Who am 1 1 Godefroi's mother. 
Elaine. Godefroi's mother ! 

Re-enter Nimue hastily. 

Kimue. He has brought one with him ! He has 
l)roug'ht one with him ! 

Elaine. My lady ! My lady ! [Exit Elaine. 

Re-enter Clarisin. 

Cla. jVIercy on us ! A miglity strange doctor this 
of Master Godefroi's ! 
Meg. Where is my son ? 
Cla. He will be here. 

[Doctor heard coming singing along the 
jmssage. Clarisin and Nbiue stand 
together in some trepidation. 

Doctor's song. 

Merry old skeleton, flesh underlying. 
Living or dying, 
Laughing or crying ... 

Merry old skull ! 
Flesh may fall in, 
Old skull still doth grin, 
Grin skull, grin skull, grin . . . grin skull . . . grin 
. . . grin . . . 

Nimue. He is singing of death. 

10 



Enter Doctor, goes straight to Jireplace, draws himself 
dose up to the fire, there remains muuiUing to him- 
self, tvarming his hands and removing the snow 
from his garments. 

I cannot see him. 

Cla. I scarcely saw him. 

Nimue. Best go fetch Godefroi. He has foiiud 
him and may know how best to deal Avith him. 
[Crosses, calls in a loud ii'his2)er.] Godefroi ! Godefroi ! 

Enter Godefroi hastily, snowujwn his clothes; he 
half ascends gallery staircase. 

[As Godefroi enters.] What of the Doctor ? 
Gode. My lady is in her room ? 
Meg. [Xot rising, so as not to disturb Lisette sleej)- 
ing.] Godefroi, I am here. 

[Pause. Godefroi stands half way np 
staircase, all the feveri.sh haste of his 
entrance seeming suddenly to have de- 
serted him. 
Gode. Mother ! what, you ! 

[Slowly descending steps. 
Meg. I cannot come to yon. Lisette is with me. 
[Godefroi I'is.ses Megarde on the cheel\ 
she tal'es his head between her hands 
and hisses him. 
Gode. Mother, what are yon come here for ? 
Meg. To take yon away with me, my son. 
Gode. To take me away mth yon ! 
Elaine. [In gallery above.] Quick, Master Doctor, 
my lady is waiting. 

11 



Cla. [To GoDEFROi.] Best j^ou go forewarn our 
lady wliat manner of doctor this is. 

Yol. [Heard c((U hi g off.] Godefroi^ laggard ! Gode- 
froi, laggard ! 

Gode. Wait . . . dear mother . . . anon ... I will 
. . . come back ! 

Niniue. But leave ns not with him alone ! 

[Exit GoDEFROi at door in gaUery. 

Elaine. Now then, Master Doctor . . . Master 
Doctor ! 

CU. Master Doctor ! 

Elaine, Cla., and Ninme. Master Doctor ! 

Doctor. [Turning dowly from fire.] Well! [Nimue 
makes a start of repulsion, uttering a sharp little cry. 
Motioning with his hand at Nimue.] Pretty mistress, 
pretty mistress ! Pah ! [Spits into the fire. 

Elaine. [Stealing forward to tahe a look at Doctor.] 
The fair Lady Yolande is w^aiting. Master Doctor ! 

Doctor. [Sneeringly.] Fair Lady Yolande! [Turn- 
ing from fire as before, his appearance has a similar 
effect on Elaine to what it had on Nimue.] Mine 
hands are nnmh. Before I can feel the flesh of 
others I must needs have some feeling in these bony 
feelers of my own. [Holding up his hands. Turning 
from fire as before.] What aileth this fair lady of 
thine tliat she should send for me, eh f [Ko answer.] 
What is it aileth this lady of thine that she should 
send for me to her on such a night as this, eh f 

Elaine. That must needs thou tell her. Leave 
warming of thy hands. 

Doctor. Fair Lady Yolande ! What doth she 
want of mef Ye look from one another and say 
nothing. [Surveys the hall.] What great matter of 

12 



tomfoolery have you on liere this night? A fool 
made the days and foo\'& fete the days. [i!^pHs into the 
fire.] What does the lady require of me — a philtre, 
a love potion f 

Nimue. Not so, indeed. Our lady hath both phil- 
tre, ay, and potions more potent far than any thou 
couldst make, in the fair form and features of her 
face ; she hath more lovers than any lady of the land. 

Doctor. Ho ! ho ! Has she so many paramours ? 
Is it, then, the philosopher's secret, the stone t 
WouUl she turn all things into gold ? 

Kimue. Nor yet that neither. For by the h)ve her 
beauty doth inspire, she turneth all things into gold. 

Doctor. By love she turneth all things into gold ! 
Then am I in a love mint, and thy fair lady frankly 
is but a simple courtezan ? 

Ki))U(e. A king's courtezan ! 

3Ie(j. A courtezan ! 

Doctor. Nay, nay, old wife, I care not. They have 
said it. 

Meg. But ye do not gainsay him ! 

Nimue. If he says true. 

Meg. She is a courtezan ; but then, my son 

Doctor. Thy son ! Was it thy son that dragged 
me through the snow ? No doubt lie loves her, too. 

Meg. It cannot be ! 

Doctor. She is a courtezan ! 

Meg. It cannot be ! 

Doctor. It is. 

Mnme. He loves her, too. 

Meg. Godefroi deceive me ? — but he loves her not. 
He must away from here. [Megarde rise.'<. 

Doctor. Keep still ! Keep still I 
13 



Mefj. [Reseating herself.] I trust liim — he will tell 
me — I do trust him. 

Unter Godefroi. 

Gode. Master Doctor, go to my lady, she is most 
impatient. Mother, shall I not take Lisette and put 
her to sleep on my bed in my room ? 

Meg. Do so, my son. 

[Godefroi tal-es Lisette uj) in his arms 
and exit carry ing her. 

Kimue. This it is aileth this fair lady of ours. 
For some days, day by day, and every da}^ since 
many days, she is Avaxed pale, and pale, and ever 
paler. [Or?/ and hell heard faint. 

Doctor. Pah ! I had lioj^e of a tumor ; this is a 
mere matter of complexion. 

XiniKe. Until at last this night on which of all 
nights 

Doctor. Why this night more nor any other 
night f 

Kiniue. Because this night, in honor of the return 

from the Holy Land of one of her young lovers 

[Megarde maJi'es a movement. 

Doctor. Ay, ay, young lovers ! Go on ! 

Mnme. There will be held a high festivity, at 
which are to be present, and in which are to take 
part — for also there is a pageant, or masque, or 
action writ by thy son. 

Doctor. Writ by thy son ? 

Meg. No, no ! 

Wmme. And the King of France, le Bel King, and 
the gallant churchman, King's brother, the Arch- 
bishop 

14 



Meg, The Arclibishop ? 
Doctor. The Archbishop ! 

Ximue. Both will be here. Aud as I said, this 
night of great rejoicing, whereon, of all the nights 
that ever were, my lady she would wish to be most 
fair —behold, if she be not become quite white ! 

[Cry and hell 
Doctor. Not white ! How white ? 
Mmue. Well, very pale. 
Doctor. How white "? As white as ivory? 
Nimue. Well, very white. 
Doctor. As white as milk ? 
Nimue. Go thou and see her. 
Doctor. As white as chalk? Conduct me to thy 
lady. [Doctor .snatches up torch, goes to staircase, 
followed 1)1/ Clarisin.] Is she so white? Is she so 
very white ? [Exeunt Doctor and Clarisin. 

Mnme. Strange things are creeping in by stealth. 
Meg. A house of sin, a house of lechery. 
Khnue. Come, Master Clerk, I must be getting 
dressed. Prythee, see to the proper ordering of all 
this. [ With a vague movement of the hand. Exit 

skippmglg. Godefroi stands in the 
middle of the room. 
Meg. Come to me, Godefroi, come to me. 
Gode. [Approaching Megarde.] Mother, mother ! 
Meg. Thy face is burning . . . thy clothes are 
^vet.'— Speak to me, Godefroi, speak to me ! 
Gode. How is my brother ? 

Meg. Well. He greets thee lovingly. — Thy hair 
is thinner, and thy cheeks are sunken. — Speak 
to me, Godefroi, speak to me ; let me hear your 

voice. 

15 



Gode. And all the neighbors f 

Meg. Jacob is dead, old Jacob he is dead. — And 
you say nothing. 

Gode. What, is Jacob dead ? 

Meg. Why, Godefroi, are you listless ? 

Gode. I am not. How — how does the garden 
look? [Godefroi hrealis down, buries his head in his 
hands and .sobs. 

Meg. My son, my son ! 

Gode. — it dripped from my garment on to hers, 
the snow I came by on her errand. She chid me. — 
Why art thou come here, mother"? 'Tis but to 
wring tliy heart, to wrench my soul. 

Meg. O son, your words are wild ! 

Gode. I have no hope, mother, I have no hope. — 
I have deceived thee, mother, I have deceived thee. 

Meg. Thou hast lied to me. 

Gode, I know it. I have lied to thee. 

Meg. I blame thee nothing ; I but blame myself. 
I should have known, but you insisted. 

Gode. Insisted f What on, mother ? 

Meg. To go and earn us bread. 

Gode. That have I done. 

Meg. Ah, but, my son, whose bread ? A harlot's 
bread ! 

Gode. Ah, mother ! 

Meg. What danger hast thou been in ? Ah, my 
son ! But God hath sent me hither through the 
snow to take thee hence ere worse befall thee. 

Gode. [Half a.side.] Worse has befallen me. 

Cla. [In gallery.] Come from thy mother ! See to 
the setting of the thrones upon the platform. 

[Exit Clarisin. 

16 



Meg. What art thou here? What unconsidered 
thing art thou, my son f 

Gode. What am I here f I am Sir Dolorous ! Sir 
Long- visage ! 

Meg. Thy father poor he was, but he was proud ! 

Gocle. Sad am I here, sadder were I elsewhere. 

3Ieg. Come hence, come hence ! 

Gode. No, leave me, mother, here ! 

Meg. Son, leave thee here f Thou wouldst not stop 
here. Then 

Gode. I cannot hence. 

3Ieg. What can thus keep you here? You love 
this life ? 

Gode. Not I — 1 hate this life ! 

Meg. What is it, then ? 

Gode. Oh, leave me, ask me not ! 

Meg. I charge thee, speak ! My son, I am thy 
mother ! 

Gode. Ay, ay, I love one here. 

Meg. One of these — women? 

Gode. One — the one! Yolande ! — I love Yo- 
lande ! 

Meg. Ah, no, you cannot love — a courtezan ! 

Gode. A courtezan ! I love a courtezan. [Me- 
(lARDE makes a movement.] Where art thou going ? 

Meg. Unto her. 

Gode. Not so ; she would but scoff at thee. 

Meg. She scoff at me — a wretched 

Gode. Mother, say it not ! Be she what she may, 
she still must be the woman I must love. This love 
is stronger, mightier than myself; I only know 'tis 
irresistible. 

Meg. Because thou hast not striven. Turn thou 

17 



back, turn back, my son ! it is not irresistible. Son, 
strive ! — This current of thy nature, this fierce 
wind — it has to be resisted; 'tis the fiend! Oh, 
take it not for God. — Who cannot drift? so sheer is 
the descent ! Tear this weed from thee ere it is too 
late. 

Gode. Mother, it was too late from the first mo- 
ment I set eyes on her. She has usurped me. 

Mf(j. And deposed thy mother^ and thy sister, 
and thy home. Oh, re-assert thy manhood; be a 
man ! 

Gode. More am I, mother, than a man ; for men 
love not as I love ! 

Meg. Remove from here, and she will fade out of 
thy memory. 

Gode. But memory will go with her — with her ! 

Meg. You think so now, you see her day by day. 
Your senses feed your fancy, your fancy fans the 
ardor of your love. A courtezan ! Y(ni should 
have been a priest, — you, erst so virtuous, — what, 
fallen doting on a courtezan ! 

Gode. My love you guess not at. You judge of 

mine by those you see around you. I love her — 

[LiSETTE heard calling mother] — as she loves you! 

[LiSETTE .stands in the doorivay. 

Meg. Blasphemer ! [Megarde crosses to Lisette.] 
Look tliou, Godefroi, upon us ! 

Gode. God, oh, God ! 

Meg. Wilt thou stay here ? [Yolande's voice. 

Gode. I cannot, cannot hence ! 

Meg. Son, I am blind and I take one to guide me. 
Son, thou art blind, and take thou one to lead thee. 

Gode. Mother ! . . . Lisette ! . . . ni}^ home ! 
18 



Meg. Lisette shall lead us both. She — me; I — 
thee. 

Gode. She shall. [Yolande's voice. 

Meg. Out, out of earshot of that fatal voice ! 

Gode. Mother, Lisette, I will away, I mil away ! 

Meg. You will f You will ? 

Gode. I will, I will away, thougii my heart breaks. 

Meg. Godefroi, the victory, the victory ! Will 
you away to-night ? 

Gode. If not to-night, to-morrow early. 

Meg. Bat this wicked masque f 

Gode. It will not be, I know it will not be. Now, 
mother, sleep, go, sleej) ! 

Meg. My son, be firm ! — and I will join my hands 
and pray for you. 

Gode. Pray, lest I enter into heaven ! 

Meg. Godefroi ! 

Gode. Take mother to her room ! Good night ! 
Good night! [Exeunt Megarde and Lisette. Yo- 
LANDE is heard calling. Godefroi stops his ears, then 
opens them and calls loudlij.] Mother and brother, 
sister and myself, something I owe myself . . . 
knave, knave thyself. [Frantically arranging gar- 
lands, etc.] Myself ! myself ! Put thou that here ! — 
Yolande! and that put there ! — Yolande ! Gar- 
lands ! festoon ! goblets ! oh, rejoice ! I go out of my 
sun, my universe ! She is a courtezan ; and I — one 
made to yearn and suffer, and eat out mine heart in 
hopeless hope! — Eain snow! howl wind! — Yo- 
lande! Yolande! Yolande!— She mil not dream 
that ever I did love her. Can one man's soul so fohl 
another's round and she reck nothing? Oh, Yo- 
lande ! Yolande ! 

19 



J'Jnter Doctor ahoce, Izabeau, Clarisin, and Elaine 
dustering round him. 

Doctor. [Leaning out of gallery.] Yolaiide, lio, ho, 
Yolande ! 

Iza., Cla., and Maine. [Crowding round Doctor as 
he descends staircase.] And is she well, and will the 
masque hold good f 

Doctor. [More to himself than to them.] Ay, she is 
bleached and blanched and milky white. What is 
it to be white"? [Turning on Women, tr/io disperse.] 
Peace, sea-gulls, peace ! [Stands at foot of staircase 
gesticulating and fantasticaUy grimacing.] King and 
Archbishop, oh, thou savory dish, served with white 
sauce ! [Pause. 

[Gripping hold of Godefroi's ivrist.] I tell thee what ; 
— to-day, Master Clerk, thy lady will have none of 
thee ; to-morrow, maybe, thou wouldst none of her. 

Oode. I go from here to-night. 

Doctor. Stay for this masque. Oh, not for all the 
world would I forego this masque ! I love a merry- 
making, a masque, a mystery, a miracle play, a 
morality — mayhap all these, a masque — for she is 
masked and will be masked ; — a mask upon a mask ; 
a mystery — how the worm gets in the nut, the nut, 
the very kernel; a miracle — now courted and noAv 
shunned, precipitated by one little word, one little 
word; and a morality such things to see. — God of 
affliction, thou alone art God ! [Paiise. 

Gode. What is it ails Yolande ? 

Doctor. She says it should not fall snow in spring 
season ; and she says truly. 

Cla. The weather then it is that vexeth her ! 
20 



Doctor. Ay, to be sm*e, the weather. [Has crossed 
over to window and moitnted upon platform.] Like what 
does the snow fallf Come, Master Clerk, up here ! 
—Does it fall like a harsh, cold word"? Does it fall 
like a kiss withheld ? 

Gode. Most like, most like ! 

Doctor. Like what does it lie on the ground? 
Does it lie like a wedding garment f Does it lie like 
a winding-sheet ? But, Master Clerk, one thing there 
is, one thing like which it falls, and Hes liker than 
these, that is— that is — that is the leprosy ! 

Enter NmuE, above. 

Nimue. Here comes my lady, is all ready f 

Iza. Ay, well nigh ! 

Nimue. But is all ready f 

Iza. [Busying abont.] Nearly, almost, quite. 

Gode. To-morrow, in the morning, not to-night ! 

Enter Servants carrying thrones and tripod. 

The tripod there, the thrones up here, come. 

Yol. [Calling off.] Izabeau ! Izabeau! Master 
Doctor ! Master Doctor ! 

Enter Yolande impetuously. She is combing Iter hair. 
Izabeau follows her. 

But nought is ready. Bring me my glass! [Exit 
Izabeau and returns with glass.] What a foul comb ! 
[Flings comb from her. Cry and bell] What cry is 
that ? I mil not have it here. Fetch me the porter. 
[Exit Clarisin.] Here is nothing ready ! 

21 



Enter Godefroi, ^/^ry^r/.s- looldtuj on Yoi^A^jy^., flowers 
in hand and sea-weed on his arm. 



My glass ! [Izabeau hands glass.] I am so white ! 
Gode. Here are your flowers. 
Yol There you are— j^ou sluggard j nothing is 
ready ! 

Gode. I will give orders. 

To/. Needs must you take them first. [LooJis at 
him.] Give me my glass ! 

Iza. You have it in your hand. 

[YoLANDE jntfs snowdrops to her hair. 
Yol. Ah, no ! [Flings away snowdrops.] They are 
so white ! I am so white ! 

Doctor. What of that ? Your hair is not white. 
Yol. My hair is streaming gold. 
Doctor. Sunset on snow. [Aside to Godefrol] 
Like what does the snow fall? 
Yol. You will restore my color ? 
Doctor. Am I a gardener to replant your roses in 
your cheeks ? Cannot your lovers pinch you pink ? 
Yol. Fie, sir ! 

[Doctor reseats himself over the fire. 

Gode. My lady, were it not better 

Yol. What of you, clerk? We will change noth- 
ing now. 

Gode. My lady, were it not wise, seeing you are 
so white 

Yol. Am I so very white ? 

Gode. To put this business off ? 

Yol. Who says that it were wise ? The King, and 
the Arclibishop, and the gay knight, Sir Sagramour. 
Why were it Avise ? Wlio says that it were wise ? 



Gode. I fear, my lady 

Yol. What do you fear? Thou art meddlesome 
to-night. 

Gode. Lest Master Doctor — lest Master Doctor 
does not tell you all. 

Yol. Master Doctor, am I ill ? I am not ill ? Tell 
me the truth ; fear not, I am not ill ! 

Doctor. If now you are ill, you never will be well 
then. 

Yol. Hear what he says. I ne'er was better, knave. 
I have sat up too late, and I am white, but in the 
flash and sparkle of the feast — men always tell me 
so — my color rises. [To Godefroi.] Go gather 
roses for my flaming hair. 

[Godefroi is looMng at Yolande intently. 
Doctor has come up to and Jcnelt doivn 
he side Yolande. 

Doctor. It should not faU snow in spring season. 

Yol. [To Godefroi.] I bade you gather roses. 

Gode. There are no roses. 

Yol. Are there no roses. Sir Glum, Sir Dolorous ? 
Do you sleep with your face betwixt two planks ? 

Doctor. You have a pretty trick of raillery ; you 
believe not in God. 

Yol. What are you, an ape ? 

Doctor. By my skeleton. 

Yol. But will you make me pink again ? 

Doctor. By slapping of your fair face for you. 

Gode. [Looliiug intentlij n2)onYoL,ANDE.] Yolande! 

Yol. Do you Yolande me, sir? Take your eyes 
off me ! 

Gode. [Still looVing inteiithj.] I had forgot, I am 
your menial, lady. I must away from you to-night. 

23 



YoL Away from me to-night f Will nor you look 
so? 

Gode. My mother is come to take me from thy 
service. 

Yol. Where is thy mother ? Is thy mother here ? 

Gode. She is here. 

Yol. Set her before me. 

Gode. [Hesitates, evasively.] She is okl and bhnd, 

Yol. I did not ask thee to make her see me. 

Gode. She is my mother. 

Yol. I take thy meaning-, insolent ! Shall she lie 
'neath my roof, partake my shelter, yet not obey mine 
orders f Drive her forth ! 

Gode. Into the snow and wind ? 

Yol. Then let her stay. You disputations clerk, 
what should you know of love — nay, do not smile 
— of life — of joy? Silence! maybe a courtezan I 
am ; but you, who eat my bread, it is not you should 
tell me so. 

Unter Porter followed Ijy Izabeau. 

At last ! What were those cries and ringing that I 
heard ? 

Porter. They come from two gra}^ figures — what 
they be I know not — stand jibbering, shuddering in 
the dark near to the gate. They ask for alms. 

Yol. [To GoDEFROi.] This is thy doing, thou hast 
emboldened them with thy faint heart and sickly 
pity. 

Porter. When I would drive them off they answer 
back with filth and blasphemies. What they may 
be I know not, but I know I should not care to touch 
them. 

24 



Yol But be tliey human ? 

[All shudder. Horses heard. 
I hear the horses. [To Porter.] Take thou thy cross- 
bow, drive them hence with bolts. [Godefroi exjms- 
tulates.] Peace, I say, recalcitrant ! Shall not I be 
obeyed in mine own house 1 

Doctor. Curse them and scourge them ! 

Yol. Drive them hence with bolts ! [Exit Porter. 
Servants carrying torches j^ass over stage.] The King- 
is coming hither, the Ai'chbishop ! [Yolande leaps 
up on to platform^ seats herself in the largest of the 
thrones that are ujjon the stage.] I am Queen Courte- 
zan. I cast oif care ! I laugh at life ! Of what is 
life for me ? The produce of their hours of sweat 
and toil men pour into my lap. O men, blind fools ! 
ye set each other one above the other, but God hath 
set me high above ye all ! Men shall forsake homes, 
wives, faith, duty, hope, dominion, Christ — all, all 
ye shall forsake and follow me. And that is love. 
Learn what love is of me. I will have Troy re- 
builded and reta'en, and Actium o'er fought for me, 
— and won. For what is love ? The sceptre of the 
wind, the spear of the frost, the breeze unto the 
breast, the sun upon the cheek, these all are love ! 
Bow down before me ! Homage ! Way for me ! 
For such as I — not Solomon in all his glory was ! 
[Cry of lepers, ^^ Unclean," distinctly heard. 
A pause. 
Dare such cries pierce my walls f [Sound of music] 
They come, they come ! 

Unter a throng of Maidens dressed as Naiads. 
Maidens. The masquers are approaching. 



Yol. [Glass in hand putting on masl\] Would I 
were not so white. Come, Naiads, eome ! 

[Exeunt Yolande and Naiads. 

Doctor. When next the moon runs out from 'neath 
that cloud, there some will be struck silly. 

Gode. [Anxiouslij.] Is she not ill f If she were ill, 
then might they — and I might — be near her, with 
her day long and night through. Ah, no, no, no ! 

Doctor. Have you so loved her ? 

Enter many Musicians, 
Gode. Get up into the gallery, [Musicians do 



so. 



Enter one like a Chamberlain. 

Chamh. Jupiter's train is preparing. 

Gode. Venus's train is preparing. 

[They salute one a/nother, and exit Chamber- 
lain, simultaneoushj with whose exit 
enter Sir Sagramour running. 

Sir S. May I not see Yolande before the masque 
commences ? 

Doctor. Not yet, not yet ! 

Sir S. Ho, Master Godefroi ! Is this good f Does 
this like you? I am Hermes. [He tur)is about so as 
to display his dress.] This masque that thou hast 
written, Master Godefroi, it is a knavish pretty piece 
of work. -fSiR Sagramour sings a snatch of song.] 
Oh, let me see Yolande — one kiss, just one. 

Doctor. Not yet, not yet ! Tell me. Sir Sagramour, 
you come back from the Holy Land 

Sir S. Who knows it not? I have done mightily. 
[To Godefroi. J 

26 



Doctor. I am a doctor. In the Holy Land have 
you seen many lepers f 

^ir S. That I have. 

Doctor. You stand in fear of a leper? 

Sir S. Sii', not I. 

Doctor. And could you know a leper by the touch 
or look — say of the hand? 

Sir 8. Indeed I could. I must be getting back to 
the King's masque. 

[The mnsic off has ceased. Exit Sir Sagra- 

MOUR. 

Doctor. [Fagerlij.] Who is the fii'st to take my 
lady's hand f 

Gocle. Sir Sagramour. 

Doctor. Ha ! ha ! When does he take her hand ! 

Gode. Wait, watch and see ! 

Enter Chamberlain. 

Chamh. Jupiter's train is marshalled ! 

Gode. My lady's train is marshalled ! 

Chamh. Then begin. [Exit Chamberlahi. 

[GODEFROI signs to Musicians in gallery to 

strike np, they do so; during tvhat 

follows GoDEFROi and Doctor remain 

by the fire. 

The Masque. 

Four Women, respectively representing the Four 
Seasons, enter singing. 

The Four Seasons are we : 
Come down to the brows of the Cyprian sea. 

27 



The gods have decreed at break of dawn 
From foam of the sea the Queen of Love shall be 
born. 

Enter several Masquers leading the ivay, then Sir Sag- 
RAMOUR as Mercury, with others representing the 
other Olympian gods ; last of all come King Phi- 
lippe and the Archbishop as Jupiter and Flu to 
respectively. 

King. I am athirst, brother, to behold this woman. 
[King and Archbishop stand smiling at 
one another. 
Doctor. The King ! 
Gode. Ay, ay ! 

Arcli. I am aglow, for by report her beauty 

[They pass along. 
Doctor, The Archbishop, the lascivious cleric, is it 
not? [Nudges Godefroi.J Here is a merrymaking! 
Gode. Leave me — leave me ! 

[During the foregoing, as the procession of 
the Olympian gods tvends its tvay tip to 
the platform, and ranges itself on the 
throne there, they have been singing. 

High Olympian gods. 

Our mandate it is from froth of the sea 

To yield to us up the Queen of Love, 

To dwell with us in the heavens above. [Pause. 

All sing. 

White curls of love on the deep blue brows, 
Queen of Love be born ! 

28 



Long have we waited for thee ; 
Come with the gods to carouse. 
Queen of Love be born ! 
The high gods sit waiting for thee. 

[Silence, tvind and sea heard, and the cry of 
the lepers. 

Chorus of Nymphs and Naiads within. 

The Queen of Love is born, 
The Queen of Beauty and Life, 
White as the foam on the sea. 

Doctor. White as the leprosy. 

[GODEFROI is seated, his head buried in his 
hands. Enter Yolande, representing 
Venns, mashed, escorted hy her Nymphs 
and Naiads. Yolande stands on the 
threshold, a murmur of admiration 
runs through the assembled ; many get 
up and crane their nechs to obtain a 
better view. 

All burst out with — 

Queen of Beauty, all hail ! 
Queen of Life and of Love ! 
Love is born upon earth. 

Doctor. [Eagerly to Godefrol] Now what? Now 
what? 

Gode. Hermes will bind Venus's waist with the 
girdle of love. 

Doctor. Here he comes ! 

[Sir Sagbx^iovr comes down from the plat- 
form holding in his hand a carcanet. 
29 



Sir S. [Doing obeisance.] Tins is the gift of the 
gods to the most fair. Suffer me, sweet Venus, to 
gird it round thy girdle. It conferreth everlasting 
power of love. 

[YoLANDE raises her arms above her head. 
Arch. [To King.] What a swan ! 

[Sir Sagramour Jcneels down and proceeds 
to fasten the girdle roimd her tvaist; 
meanwhile theij sing. 

Powder everlasting we confer, 

Upon the sweetest goddess, to inspire 

The hearts of men with love unquenchable. 

King. Would his office were mine. 
Doctor. Oh, lechery, lechery ! 
Sir S. Lady Yenus, may I as guerdon crave to 
put my lips to thy fair, shght, bright hand? 

[YoLANDE sloivhj lowers one hand. 
Doctor. Now they converge ! now they converge ! 
lips to hand — wine on white marble— purple on 
snow^ [Sir Sagramour /^/A-ei'YoLANDE'sAa^ifZ; almost 
puts his lips to it, draws his head suddenhj bacJ{, lets go 
the hand; lets his eyes travel fearfully tip her body .so 
as to see under her chin. Coming up to Sir Sagra- 
mour.] On, my lord, on ! 

[People take up the cry, '' On, Sir Sagra- 
mour, on ! " The King comes swing- 
ing dotvn off the platform. 
King. Take your kiss, let us to ours ! 
Sir S. [Starting up off his hiees and lyreventinq the 
King.] My King! 

30 



King. Fool, lower ! [The Archbishop comes down. 
Arch. [SeeMng to put Sir Sagramour roughly aside.] 
Out of the way ! 

Sir S. No — uo ! My liege, my Lord ! 
People. [Murmur.] ^' Liege," "Lord." 
Sir 8. [Designating Yolande,] Do not you see ? 
Do not you see ? 

People. [Murmur.] Is lie drunken? What is it? 
Is he mad ? 

[Yolande malxes a negatory gesture. The 
m usic Txceps on playing. 
Some. [Cry.] Out of the way with him ! 
King. Out of the way ! Are ye grown sudden 
jealous? 

Sir S. No, no ! you must not ! [Forcihly restrains 
King ami Archbishop.] Oh, lady, give me time ! if 
thy face be as white as is thy hand, as is thy chin, 

then art thou stricken 

People. [Murmur.] What says he ? What says he ? 
[A huhhuh begins, and goes on increasing 
until the ivord "leprosy." 

Sir S. Then art thou stricken 

Sir S. and Doctor. With the leprosy ! 

[A hush falls on all. A shudder runs 
through Yolande's frame. 
Gode. [Leaping up suddotly.] Liar, Sir Knight! 
Doctor. Why, this is April Fool's Day ! 

[Sotne laugh, Yolande laughs. 
Sir S. No fooling here ! Lady, Lift off yom- mask. 
King. [In a chol'ed voice.] Off with your mask ! 
Doctor. [In Yolande's ear.] Do not; you are so 
white. 

Yol It is a lie ! I am not white, Sir Sagramour ! 
31 



Gode. [ Wildly.] It is a lie ! It is a lie ! 
King. Off with your mask ! 
Arch. Off witli your mask ! 
Many. Off with your mask ! 

[YoLANDE raises hand to mash. 
Doctor. [In her ear.] Do not ! 

[YoLANDE appears to hesitate, a pause, then 
suddenly and defiantly she withdraws 
her mask ; a murmur of adiniration, 
then of horror, runs through the as- 
sembly. " The leprosy ! " Yolande 
sinJcs doivn on the floor. 
[Capering ahout.] The leprosy! the leprosy! God hath 
forestalled ; God was there before ye. A miracle, 
a god, a leprosy ! 

6ode. [Driving the Doctor forth.] Fiend, out of 
here ! Away ! away ! away ! [Godefroi signs to the 
Musicians to stop playing; they do not hear him — he 
goes up into the gallery.] Cease ! cease ! 

Sir S. [Throwing himself down before Yolande.] 
Forgive me, Lady Yolande ! 

Yol. [Raising her head and stretching out her arms.] 
It is not true ! 

Many. It is not true ! 
Gode. [On the staircase.] Is it not true? 
Sir S. [As Yolande approaclies him.] Only touch 
me not ! 

Yol. [Crawling towards Sir Sagrainiour on her 
knees.] It is not true, Sir Sagramour. 

[She touches him on the leg; Sir Sagramour 

draws his dagger and rushes frenziedly 

through the onlookers, crying out, 

^'Help !" Many take wp the cry and 

32 



fly panic-dywhen away. Yolaxde 
sinhs hack on the ground. 
King. [To Archbishop.] Brother! 
Arch. Brother, it is God's domg ! Brother, I will 
stand forth and I will curse her. [Stretches out his 
arm.\ Before God and before ye I do confess my 
sin. [Tearing away his niasMng gear.] Know me for 
the Lord Archbishop ! [Consternation. 

King. [Tearing away his masTiing gear.] Know me 
for Philippe, King of France ! 

[Further consternation. 
Arch. How dear God hath His Chnrch, behold in 
me ! For in His mercy He hath brought us out to 
vindicate His strong arm in our eyes. He would 
not let us fall. 'Fore Thee, O God, before ye all I 
swear from this day forth I ne'er more will neglect 
mine holy charge. Behold j^our Queen of Love, 
melted in God's wrath. I cast at thee my stone. 
Anathema ! 

King. I cast at thee my stone. Anathema ! 
Arch. Flee the unclean thing ! 
Ki)ig. Flee the unclean thing ! [Impulsively kneel- 
ing before the Archbishop.] Brother, oh, bless me ! 

People. [Kneeling round the Archbishop.] Bless 
us, father ! 

Arch. [Stretching out his arms.] Bless ye, and sin 
no more I 

King. To horse ! to horse ! Away ! away ! away ! 
[Archbishop and others take up and repeat 
the severed cries ; many of them take 
hold of torches; some, in the general 
consternation, gather up goMets, plates, 
etc. Exeunt King, Archbishop, and 

33 



others; many are still left lingeriny 
about. Horses heard galloping over 
ston e-p a ved court y a t 'd. 

Gode. [Bushing in amongst the remnant and driving 
them away.] Out of liere, all of ye ! What do ye 
here ? This is a temple : out of here, away ! [ When 
all are gone, in a great exaltation.] Have pity on me, 
Lord, have pity on me ! And help me further for- 
ward, O my God ! 

[The snow has ceased falling, the moon is 
shining oiit. 

Yol. [Rolling in the rushes on the floor.] Leprosy ! 
leprosy ! [Godefroi comes slowly down stage; stands 
over YoLANDE. 

Gode. [In a low voice.] My lady 

Yol. The leprosy ! the leprosy ! the leprosy ! the 
leprosy ! 

Gode. Yolande, my Lady Yolande ! 

Yol. [In a hieeling posture, drawing her hand across 
her forehead.] Let me see. ... It is not true ! . . . 
come back! . . . come back! . . . [Crosses to the 
tmndotv.] Come back ! . . . come back ! . . . [She 
looks at the disorder in the room.] Why ! . . . how ! 
. . . here ! . . . Oh, wake me, wake me, wake me ! 
[Her eyes rest on her hands and arms, she seats herself 
on the platform.] Ah, the whiteness, the whiteness ! 
[Tears at her arms, tries, so to say, to hide herself 
tvithin herself] All — all over me. . . . Oh, oh, oh, 
oh ! face, arms, legs, head ! [aS7/^ rolls on the floor.] 
Within me, it is within me, it is within me and with- 
out me ! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ! [Rolls again in the 
rushes.] Wake me, wake me ! [She is sitting on the 
floor. Godefroi stretches out his hand.] No — no ! 

34 



Gode. What ! not your fair, bright, little hand ? 
[YOLANDE takes Godefroi's hand, sprhujs 
up from the ground and kisses him 
once, ttmce, and again. 
Yol It is not true ! I am not — you let me kiss 
you ! 

Gode. Lady, alas, alas ! 

Yol. Yes, it is true ! Oh, God ! oh, God ! [She 
sinli's helplesshj to the ground.] Ah ! ah ! ah ! 

Gode. [Having hrought Yolande a seat, against 

ivhich she supports her body.] My lady 

• Yol. I will to bed. The sheets are white, it will 
not show so much. [The last tvords are scarcehj an- 
dihle.] Wine, fetch me wine ! 

Gode. My lady 

Yol. Fetch me some wine, I said. Do as I bid 
you! [GoDEFROi does so; pours out a goNetful 

of wine, holds it out to Yolande, who 
puts out her hand to take the goblet; 
she suddenly plunges it into the ivine 
and sniggers to herself, saying, "So 
white, so white ! " What remains in 
the gohlet she pours over her dress. 
GODEFROI picks up the gohlet, refills 
it and hands it to Yolande. 
[As she takes the cup from him.] Ganymede, Gany- 
mede ! More, more ! [Godefroi once more refills 
gohlet, which Yolande empties. Struggling to her feet.] 
1 will to bed now, I will to bed now. Wliere is Sir 
Sagramour ? 

Gode. My lady. Sir Sagramour is run away. 
Yol. Where are my servants ? [Izabeau is looking 
timorously in at one of the doors. Yolande sees her.] 



Izabeau, slattern, come here ! [Izabeau flees awmj 
screaming; Yolande sinJ^s info the chair; Izabeau's 
screams die away graduallij; silence. Begin n ing to cry. ] 
But my servants? Shall I — oh, God! oh, God! 
Where are vaj servants f 

Oode. They are gone, my lady. [Yolande hursts 
into tears.] I will fetch them back. [He goes towards 
the door, then conies had'.] My lady, they are fled 
away from ns. 

Yol. From us ! From me ? 
Gode. From ns ! 

Yol From us . . . from us. . . . No, no, no, no ! 
I do not believe it all. Yon are her poor clerk ; I 
am the Lady Yolande ! I will sleep, and wake np 
to-morrow. [Sinls into chair.] Who is to do for me ; 
who is to undress me ? 

Gode. I will attend you, lady ! 
Yol You Avill attend me ? Who will undress me ? 
Gode. I will undress you. 

Yol Sirrah ! [Yolande striJces Godefroi, then 
stands ruhbing her hands letween her hiees and laugh- 
ing the ivhile. Godefroi stands looking at Yolande, 
Yolande at Godefrol ^Suddenly cowering before 
Godefrol] Ah, do not harm me ! 
Gode. Lady, I harm you ! 

Yol You hate me. I have slighted you ,♦ you hate 
me. 

Gode. I hate you, lady ! Lady, I do love you ! 
Yol You love me? How — how your face — 
seems cleared ! I am the Lady Yolande ! you are 
her poor clerk. Are you not that same Gode- 
froi? No, no, you do not love me — you take pity 
on me ! 

36 



Gode. Pity, my lady, is it pity that clears up my 
face ? No, it is joy, the joy to be alone — alone with 

you. 

Yol. [Startiuff away from aoDEFROi.] Yon— yon 
are giacl of — of what has befallen me. 

Gode. I try to feel, to think, I am not glad ! 

Yol Beast, beast, yon have no pity— leave me — 

leave me ! 

Gode. Go from yon, lady, leave yon all alone! For 

yon wonld be alone shonld I go from yon. 

Yol I mnst l^ethink me ... I must bethink me. 
What is it for me to be a leper? 

Gode. For me, it is to be alone with yon. Alone 
with yon, Yolande, to l)e with yon. For yon, it is 
to be alone with me. 

ro7. Alone— alone with yon! Yes. Sit by me, 
Godefroi, [Movi)}g lier skirts, maluuj room for Gode- 
FROi.] Here now ! 

Gode. Let me touch your hand. 

Yol No. Then yon w^ould become 

Gode. The liker you ! 

Yol Oh, tell me what I am— and what you are ! 
You seem to know. To be alone with you, always 
alone with you, oh, my poor heart ! —What shall we 
talk off For now the time will be so long ! 

Gode. Not longer than it was. 

Yol Oh, yes, for now will come to me no gallants. 

Gode. None but me ! 

Yol My poor Godefroi, yon are no gallant! 
[Pause.] Wliy do you stay with me ? 

Gode. Because thou art Yolande, the thing on 
earth— the thing on earth I love . . . 

Yol [SinMng her head on her hands.] Oh, I am 
37 



very weary ! The tiling on earth you love. But 
they all loved me, they are tied from me ! 

Gode. They did not love thee — not as I love thee 
— else wherefore are they fled away from thee f Yon 
still are yon, and yon are still the same. 

Yol. Oh, not the same ! [Breaking out.] My beanty, 
oh, my life ! Oh, if yon love me, kill me, kill me, 
kill me ! [On Jier liiees hpfore Godefroi. 

Gode. Kill yon ! I love yon. What love can do — 
Yolande, what can it not ? What can it not ? 

Yol. Bnt mncli of this was in the masqne had it 
gone on. 

Gode. Lady, yon said I did not know what love 
was. 

Yol. [SJii-inJiing suddenhj from Godefroi.1 Oh, no, 
no, no ! Yon do not love my body ! 

Gode. No, lady, not thy body, bnt thy sweet soul. 
That is the thing I love wdth all my being ! My pil- 
grimage is over, and I kneel, I kneel before the 
shrine, Yolande ! Yolande ! 

Yol. [After looling fixedly at him for some time, in a 
loiv voice.] What art — art one of the saints, art He? 

Gode. I am bnt one that loveth, that is all ! Bnt 
one that loveth. 

Yol. Bnt with Christ's love. A mighty light is 
lireaking in npon me. 

Gode. [In a .sudden great ecsta.sy.] Yolande, He hath 
done this to save thy sonl. I see all now. Perish 
thy body, so thy sonl snrvive. 

Yol. Perish my body, so my sonl snrvive ! Oh, 
Godefroi, Godefroi ! Let's dow^n npon our knees 
and pray to God. 

[Tlteg hieel down opposite to one another. 

38 



Gode. Like two stone images above a tomb of my 
sorrowing. 

Yol. Of my loveliness. [Writhing.] It creeps like 
shoals of flies all through, all through me. Thou 
canst save me. Lead me — lead me to God ! Do 
not kill me though I ask of you, not though I beg 
of you. I shall — I shall — but do it not ; let me live 
on and suffer — so that by suffering I may win for- 
giveness. Only, as thou dost love me, never let me 
look upon a mirror ; never let me see the horror of 
my countenance. God hath laid hold upon my body, 
and He will rend it peacemeal joint from joint, and 
He will teai' it up and scatter it, and cast it from 
Him. The hairs from my head, the nails from my 
fingers, the toes from my feet. This T\dll be done ! 
Splotch me and spatter me. Thy will be done ! 
Only, do never let me see myself. But you will see 
me. But then, ah, Godefroi ! then one day will 
come . . . when I am hideous to look upon. . . . 
Then one will cross thy path as I still am, and thou 
wilt steal away from me by night. 

Gode. No, lady, never! 

Yol. Thou wilt stay mth me ? 

Gode. Through life, through death ; through hf e 
beyond the grave, up to the throne of God. 

Meg. [Call imj off.] Godefroi! Godefroi! 

Yol. There is one calling thee. 

[Lepers heard calling off. 
There is one calling me. They are calling you to 
yours, and me to mine. 

Gode. Chug close to me and I will cleave to you. 

Yol. They are calling you to heaven and me to 
heU. 

39 



Goile. There were uo heaven for me without yoii, 
Yolande ; and hell were painless were yon there. 

Enter Megarde led lij Lisette. 

Meg. Godef roi ! 

Gode. Oh, God, my mother ! 

YWitlidrmvs into the shade. Silence. 

Lis. There is Godef roi. 

Meg. Godef roi, come home with ns ; we cannot 
sleep beneath this wicked roof ; come home to ns. 
Speak to me, Godef roi. 

Lis. There is a lady hanging ronnd his neck. 

Meg. Oh, Godefroi, Godefroi ! I stretch ont mine 
arms in tlie darkness. Easy it is to elnde me ; come 
from her, Godefroi, come to me. 

Yol. [WeaMij.] Godefroi, Godefroi, do not leave 
me, Godefroi. 

Meg. [Moving off.] Son, I am going home. Where 
yonr home is yon know. May God forgive yon ! 

Gode. Mother, dear mother ! 

Meg. Or she or me, mother or conrtezan ? 

Gode. She is no conrtezan. She hath atoned her 
sins : she is a leper. I cannot come to yon, for I 
have tonched her. 

Meg. Oh, my God, my son ! 

Lepers. [Heard ccdling off.] Come nnto ns, sister 
leper. 

Yol. Keep them away ; keep them away ! 

Gode. [Calling down the passage.] Away! away! 

Meg. I stretch ont mine arms in the darkness. 

Gode. Mother ! .yon do not know. 

Lepers. [Kearer and nearer.] Come nnto us, sister 
leper, come nnto ns. 

40 



Yol. Keep tlieiii off ! 
Gode. Away ! away ! 
Lepers. [Off.] We want our sister leper. 
Gode. She is not for thee. 
Lepers. Clean art thou f 

Gode. I am clean. [Lepers heard retreating, calling 
out ''Unclean,'' and heating their dapxpers.] Mother, 
God hath so Avilled it ! You have my brother, you 
have Lisette— but she hath no one. Mother, in 
Grod's sight I am doing well. I must go forth and 
testify to Him. There are blind forces driving at 
my back. 

Meg. We stretch out our arms in the darkness. 

[^eceral deniolishers, dressed in red, rush 
across the stage, smashing up to right 
and left with huge mallets; they cry as 
they do so, "Demolish! Demolish!" 
A sound of chanting. During the re- 
mainder of the p)lay, crash ings are 
heard from time to time. 

Enter the Frantic Revmit followed hy a King's Officer, 
an Executioner, hanging on his arm a gray gar- 
ment, and in his hand a clapper, other Monks 
chanting. 

Hermit. [Seeing Yolande.] Here is the foul thing ! 
I To Gode.] Up, and away from her ! Go through 
the house ; smash, purge, destroy, and purify ! Lea\'c 
her to me. [He moves slowly down the stage, then with 
the most intense ferocity.] Pollution ! Monstrous 
curse ! 

Gode. Her fall is recent, and from a great height. 
41 



Hermit. She made a traffic of lier liesli: behold 
what God hath made of her commodity, her market- 
able wares ! like a white tent whereof the pole is 
cut. 

Gode. Some pity, priest ! 

Hermit. What man would touch her now? 

Gode. Wouldst break the bruised reed ? take some 
Christ's pit}', priest ! 

Hennit. Who is this — this extenuator of God's 
judgments ? 

Meg. That is my son. 

Hermit. Why doth he cling to her ? 

Gode. Because I loye her ! 

Hermit. Beetle ! wouldst thou lay thine eggs in 
this fair garbage-heap ? 

Gode. Haye you no pity ? 

Hermit. I say stand from her ! lest in one common 
ban I comprehend ye both. 

Gode. Ay, do so ! wall us round and fence us off ! 
leaye us to be with God. . . . Shriek ! shriek ! but 
learn from me. 

Hermit. From thee ? 

Gode. From me. 

Hermit. What is this yile blasphemer ? 

Bystander. He is a poor clerk. 

Hermit. One of the profane of Paris ? Stand thou 
accursed, likewise ! and hear ye the Archbishop's ex- 
communication. 

Gode. What is thine Archbishop, that he should 
excommunicate ! 

Hermit. Dost thou dispute the thunders of the 
Church ? 

Gode. I do dispute the Church. I tell thee, God 

42 



hath cajst them out from her . . . King and Arch- 
bishop, and not she from them. 

Hermit [To the Executioner.] Then put her on the 
robe and diive her forth. Thy goods are given over 
to the King ; thy bodies to the leprosy, thy souls to 
Satan — Anathema ! Shall not man follow in God's 
footsteps when so clearly one is set aside as she for 
execration ? 

Meg. My son, my son ! 

Hermit. x\nd thou, blaspheming, filthy paramour ! 

Gode. [Tal'iuij the gray garment from the Execu- 
tioner.] Nay, suffer me ! 

Yol. Nay, do not drive me out ; this is my house. 

Hermit. At the sword's point, if need be. 

Gode. [Putting the garment over Yolande, who seems 
to shrink from it.] Nay, lady, 'tis thy sackcloth ; think 
of God. 

Hermit. Give her the bell. 

Gode. [Taking the bell from the Executioner. Yo- 
lande is half fainting.] Nay, sir! — Lady, take this! 
are not we ready now ? 

Bystander. He is lewd ! he is disgusting ! 

Hermit. Now get ye forth and wander through 
the world. And with thy lips, as long as thou hast 
lips, cry out, "Unclean, unclean." Ye shall come 
nigh no human habitation within three miles. Ye 
shall not wash in any running stream, nor shall ye 
go in any narrow pathways, but ye shall wander in a 
wilderness, two voices testifying to God's j ustice. Oh, 
God ! oh, God ! Thy glorious covenant ! Thy great 
just dealing ! [To the bystanders.] Oh, rejoice, rejoice ! 
for the ungodly perish 'neath thine eyes. [Bell, and 
voice crying, " Unclean."] Out to thy brethren ! 

43 



Gode. Tliy message thou hast spoken ; hear thou 
mine ! 

Hermit But as for thee, — hast sought poUution 
out, and clasped corruption to thee, — worse shall be 
thy fate than hers at God's great judgment day. 

Gode. Thy message thou hast spoken ; hear thou 
mine ! That there is love on earth we will show 
God ; we will show man that there is God in heaven. 
That she might be acceptable to Him, He made her 
first abhorrent unto men. He cast a seed of love 
into my heart ; and when that seed had grown up 
strong and stout (strong to resist God's weather and 
man's hate), then did this little thicket blossom 
forth, and then God said, Go forth and testify to 
men before My face. All ye are misinterpreters of 
God. And we will cry, '^ Unclean, unclean," to 
your uncleanly world ! where is no love, but lust 
usurping love. — Come forth, Yolande, into the night 
and wind! — When we appear together at the last, 
together He must judge us ! We are one ! Say, we 
are one! Out, out into the night! [To onloolxers.\ 
Unclean — ye are unclean ! 

[GoDEFROi appears to drag Yolande. 

Hermit. She hath bewitched him. 

Kimjs Off. Tear him from her ! 

[Several men-at-arms draw their swords. 

Yol. [Clinging wildly to Godefroi.) Ah, no, no, no, 
no, no ! 

Gode. [In a great exultation.] That she should have 
desired me ! — Yolande, stretch out thine arms ! they 
shall not \)i\ri us. 

[Yolande does so; the men-at-arms retreat. 

Hermit. Hew her arms off ! 
44 



Gode, Cowards, ye are afraid ! Come, Yolaiide ; 
come, lady, come ! . , . Uncleanly world ! . . . Out 
— out into the uiglit, into the wind ! . . . Oh, mother, 
mother, tell me I do well ! 

Meg. I would not have thee other than thou art ! 
That I did bear thee ! Oh, my son, my son ! for thou 
art surel}^ Christ-like. 
Gode. Aw^ay, away ! 
Yol. But they are waiting for us. 
Gode. What of that ? Oh, better they than these ! 
Mother, farewell ! — Unclean, unclean, unclean ! 

[Exeunt Godefroi rt?«r? Yolande ; crashing 
and chanting is still going on. Silence 
falls on all. You hear redoubled cries 
of '' Unclean." 

Curtain falls. 



45 



GODEFROI AND YOLANDE, 



A MEDl/EVAL PLAY IN ONE ACT. 



BY 



LAURENCE IRVING. 



NEW YORK. 

1894. 



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